Sometimes, it all gets to be too much.

Paying attention to the online world is getting to me.  It’s not making me sad or crazy, but it is making me question why I would be  interested in the whiny complaints of Jon & Kate?  Honestly, the mere fact that she birthed eight of God’s little creatures and has to manage them with her dumb as f*ck husband while being filmed should be reason enough for me to bypass the DRAMA that is their lives.   I guess what does interest me is who is buying ad time for this sh*t sandwich masquerading as entertainment.  But not really.  Because I refuse to commit any of my time  to find out who is purchasing ad time on the show.

See?

I don’t care enough to go deep into the machinations of these two narcissistic breeders but I care enough to skim commentary on their lucrative yet insipid lifestyle.

That’s what is getting me about my web addiction.  I’ve become someone who needs the quick hit of information about random things and people.  Today, I sampled posts about the following:

Mike Huckabee’s Maria gaffe [Politico.com]

Former NYPD commissioner Bernard Kerik federal indictment [Oliver Willis]

The sex life of a 25 year old accountant [Daily Intel]

Drake [Myspace]

Carmina Soul party [Afrokinetic]

Craigslist (which led to apartment/salary/greed envy spiral)

Affordable condos in Brooklyn [Halstead Property]

Online by fantasy shopping [Barneys New York]

Brooklyn Film Festival! [BAM]

And yet, I still feel like my life is not richer for having nibbled at these bits of information.  Yes, I know that a former GOP Presidential candidate mistakenly called President Obama’s Supreme Court nominee Sonia Sotomayor the wrong name but shouldn’t I want to know why, as well?  It’s not enough that I assume his gaffe means that Mike Huckabee is just sloppy and maybe thinks all Hispanic women are named Maria!  I should be willing to step away from the keyboard to find out Mike’s extensive and thoughtful opinions on the nominee.

And the online by fantasy shopping!  What’s wrong with walking into a store to ACTUALLY touch the finery that I cannot afford?  It’s time to step away from this elective ADHD that’s taken over my life — no, no, that I’ve ALLOWED to take over my life.  It’s been too easy to bury my dreams and troubles in a world that makes me feel connected in my isolation.

Starting today, I’m on hiatus from engaging with the world via  laptop and a wireless router.  Watch out world, I’m coming back!

In the meantime, here are some of my favorite posts for your reading pleasure/disdain:

It feels good to finally make it to Election Day. ***Ever been completely at peace with a decision?

Tallulah watches ‘The Millionaire Matchmaker.’ ***Better than most romantic comedies for the real deal on dating.

Margaret Seltzer is a big fat… ***I had to write and laugh at an upper middle class woman who sold as autobiography a fictional story of her life as an LA gang banger.  And fooled a lot of people including the NY Times. I need to look up Margaret Seltzer when I get back from hiatus!

The Tyranny of Ordinary ***A review of Revolutionary Road, a movie that is never far from my thoughts. Yes, even six months after seeing it.

I will return July 5th.

Pic via.

A very good reason to spend some cash is …

Brooklyn Restaurant Week.  From March 23 – April 2, restaurants throughout the borough (including the swanky River Cafe!) offer special menus at the recession worthy price of $23.  Although some venues are restricting the offer for lunch only, most are including brunch and dinner.

This kind of deal is the best reason to leave the curmudgeonly excesses of winter and embrace the dawn of spring.

Pic via.

Bonnie Lee of the Brooklyn Examiner really knows Brooklyn:

Boerum Hill: Beautiful-beautiful-beautiful. Good subway accessibility. A lively mix. Large African and Middle Eastern populations with their excellent food. Antiques shops. Smith Street’s restaurant row. One day when I have a real paying job, I will live here.

Cobble Hill: Popular and chic yet serene and tranquil. Great little gourmet food shops and clothing boutiques. Discount tickets at Cobble Hill Cinemas. Olives, nuts, and hummus from legendary Sahadi’s store.

Carroll Gardens: Old Italian men shootin’ the breeze outdoors all summer. Charming. Historic brownstones with actual gardens. Handmade pasta at Caputo’s. Bocce. Where I call home.

Red Hook: Though MTV based a Real World season in this neighborhood, I do not know anyone who lives here…yet. IKEA. Those ballpark vendors in the summer. Housing projects. No subways. Possible location of the teamsters’ sandwich shop mentioned in 30 Rock episode.

Williamsburg: Industrial. Hipsters. Artist types. Cash only. Gritty urbanism. Former garter, shoe, and candle factories converted into overpriced lofts. Dirty. According to sis, “where the ‘poor kids’ of Gossip Girl allegedly live with their artist dad.”

Greenpoint: Old Polish neighborhood. Mostly subway inaccessible. McCarren Park Pool and nostalgia for the summer concerts there (soon to open as an actual public pool).

Brooklyn Heights: Basically a Manhattan neighborhood that happens to be on the other side of the river. Brownstone mansions for yuppies who work on Wall Street and want to start a family. Waterfront promenade for fancy dog-walking and jogging in expensive stretchy clothes. $$$$.

DUMBO: Art galleries and workspaces. Yummy foods: Grimaldi’s pizza, River Café, Brooklyn Ice Cream Factory, Jacques Torres Chocolate. Views of bridges and skyline. According to sis, “where the loft of the ‘poor kids’ of Gossip Girl is actually located.” Which makes that show a total farce, told you.

Windsor Terrace and Kensington: No one knows where either is, even native New Yorkers. The few ungentrified (read: affordable, or, in the words of a white friend who lives there, “no white people”) areas left in Brooklyn that are still somewhat downtown Manhattan accessible.

Fort Greene: Brooklyn Flea market. Grand burgundy brownstones and uneven sidewalks. Brooklyn Academy of Music (BAM). Home to writers Jhumpa Lahiri, Colson Whitehead, Amitav Ghosh, and Jennifer Egan, among others.

Clinton Hill: G train. Pratt Institute and its artsy students. Historic mansions that were accessible to Manhattan by stagecoach but not so much by subway. Still affordable without being crappy.

Park Slope: The yuppieland of Brooklyn after the internet-startup boom 10 years ago. All-terrain SUV-type strollers, moms in Burberry and Lululemon, and well-groomed purebreds take up the width of sidewalks.

Prospect Heights: A no-man’s land between Park Slope and whatever lays beyond. Connected by the dreaded Franklin Street Shuttle that everyone insists is not that bad.

Crown Heights: Blacks + Hasidic Jews + other = race riots.

Dyker Heights: Houses covered in crazy Christmas lights and decorations you see on TV every December.

Most of these neighborhood descriptions are shallow and lifestyle porny but the Crown Heights and Windsor Terrace descriptions are off the charts krazee.   I mean who would believe there is a neighborhood in New York City without white people?  And she makes Crown Heights sound like a war zone.

Note to Ms. Lee:  Go visit a few places before damning them with your insights gained with your fancy education.

Bi-Polar Thursday, June 26th photos

Guest of a Guest dropped by!

More photos on Flickr

Oh moronic denizen of Williamsburg, why do you feed the hate?

This is an excerpt from ad for a roommate to share a Williamsburg loft on Craigslist.

About You:
You are fucking awesome. You are the housemate anyone would want. You have conversations with your housemates as well as have your own personal life out side of us. You laugh at jokes, have a great sense of humor but are not fake, flakey, full of shit, or pretend. You already know how great the neighborhood is and have friends you see all the time around the way. You are a girl or guy with a great sense of personal care. You make nasty in the bathroom you light incense. You make mac n’ cheese you do the dishes and maybe even the single cup the person before you left behind. You have a passion for something creative that you honestly peruse. You don’t say you are a writer, you have 6 chapters done and working on number 7. You don’t say you are a painter, you have awesome art that your housemates love to see and talk about. You are open to new ideas, music, people, foods, and art. You don’t have any pets. You don’t have some dependant boyfriend or girlfriend that is always sitting on our couch and eating my cereal. You are trustworthy, respectful, honest, and neat. At least neat in common areas. You shower, wear deodorant, brush your teeth, do laundry and even bust out the broom and murder some dust bunnies. You are not a couch potato.
You have a handful of awesome friends that are respectful and nice to your housemates also. Your friends don’t come over to often and they and you ask if someone can sleep on the couch. You do not use drugs. You do not lie and say you don’t drugs then actually do. Trust me we will find out if you do. I repeat you do not have some sketchy delivery guy dropping off little white bags of death at 6 in the morning at my home with a few asshole friends. You do occasionally smoke some greens and share with your roommates. Occasionally not excessively. You are not whiney. You are not gossipy. Your are not a slut, you are not a douche bag. You work a job or two. You have a job with perks we can all use. You pay attention to sound and alarms. Your are over all CONSIDERATE ABOUT THE PEOPLE AROUND YOU. You do not smoke cigarettes in our home. You use apple computers and read vice magazine. You are not too old, you are not too young. You are not a drama king or drama queen. You are not an asshole. And you think this apartment sounds like the best place for you.

Whenever I go to Williamsburg, I try really hard not to loathe the place and the people who live there. Ultimately, I fail. The same question pops into my brain with every visit:

are all you mofos delusional? It’s remote, filthy and overpopulated with super crappy apartment buildings and people who would have done anything to avoid living there 15-20 years ago.

There is something to be said about outlining your hopes, dreams and wishes for a housemate but not once did this hipster version of Dwight Schrute stop to think that his wishlist for roomie perfection might turn people off to the idea of living with him in the house of cool.